Chapter 43: The Vigil

Chapter 43: Keeping Vigil

When he woke up, Li Zhiming didn't even have time to put on his clothes before rushing out. It was already dark, but judging by the moonlight, it was just the beginning of the night.

Yet the incident had occurred in the dead of night.

"Feng Yin!"

Feng Yin appeared at the call: "Young Master."

"Go keep an eye on the Second Young Master's room. If he comes out, you must stop him, or report to Sang Yu's place immediately. I'll be resting there."

Feng Yin was surprised for a moment but didn't ask, just saying, "Yes."

Seeing that it was still early, Li Zhiming rubbed his still-aching head, went back to his room to grab his outer robe and put it on, then knocked on Sang Yu's door.

The door opened to reveal a sleepy, docile-looking young man.

Although Sang Yu didn't seem threatening right now, and because he was half-asleep, he looked a bit adorably dazed, with a hint of innocence hanging on his delicate, handsome face.

He had to admit, this man was truly handsome.

Even though he was a man, sometimes he couldn't help but feel his heart race, captivated by that kind of beauty.

"Young Master? What is it?"

Sang Yu's voice was slightly hoarse.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned lazily, a misty, watery sheen forming at the corners of his eyes, tinged with a flirtatious pink flush.

He wore only a thin undergarment, not even a robe draped over him. His collar hung loose, and the pale, creamy skin at his collarbone looked especially delicate in the moonlight.

Li Zhiming's Adam's apple bobbed as he cursed himself silently.

This is a man, and a madman at that—he really is a fool who doesn't fear death.

"It's nothing, I just couldn't sleep and wanted to come to see you. Can I come in?"

Li Zhiming looked at him anxiously.

Sang Yu didn't think much of it and stepped aside. "Come in."

"Okay."

Sang Yu turned to light the lamp, and Li Zhiming followed, closing the door behind him since the wind outside was strong and cold.

The dim room grew brighter.

Li Zhiming turned his head and saw the cabinet sitting there perfectly intact, and his whole body trembled.

He had just smashed into it and died right here.

Sang Yu had already sat down, and when he saw him still staring at the cabinet, he asked in confusion: "Does the Young Master like this cabinet?"

"Huh?" Li Zhiming shook his head repeatedly. "No, no, I don't like it. This cabinet looks too old to me. I'll get you a new one tomorrow. Let's get rid of this one—no, no, let's move it out."

As he spoke, he rolled up his sleeves and went to shift the cabinet.

Sang Yu: "???"

Moving a cabinet in the middle of the night?

Li Zhiming explained, almost to himself: "It makes me uncomfortable to look at. It's not good to keep it here. Let's move it out first, and I'll bring a new one tomorrow. Actually, a cabinet isn't something you absolutely need, right?"

He strained to move it, but only managed to shift it slightly.

"Sang Yu..."

Helpless, he had to soften his tone and gave him a pleading look: "Can you help me move it away?"

He hugged the cabinet with both arms, bent over, his moist eyes like a puppy's, as if begging for food.

Sang Yu was immediately amused.

"Alright."

He was happy to help a little dog that was wagging its tail at him willingly.

With Sang Yu's help, the cabinet was quickly moved out and left in the courtyard, leaving an empty space in the room that made it feel hollow.

Li Zhiming was exhausted and panting, gulping down two cups of tea in quick succession.

"I'll definitely get you a better one tomorrow."

Sang Yu was now fully awake. He took his outer robe and draped it over himself, clearly sensing a gaze on him the entire time.

A faint smile played on his lips.

As if on purpose, he turned around abruptly, catching Li Zhiming's flustered expression.

"Does the Young Master stare at me like this because you miss me so much you can't sleep at night?"

"?"

Li Zhiming was shocked by Sang Yu's narcissism and embarrassed that he had been caught staring.

"Ahem, no, no."

He picked up another cup of tea and held it against his chest.

"Well, if you're sleepy, go to bed. I just came to sit here awhile."

He tried his best to appear considerate.

He had only meant it as a polite gesture, but unexpectedly, Sang Yu actually nodded, took off his outer robe again, and went straight to bed...

Damn it.

Li Zhiming didn't dare voice his anger, so he could only sit at the table by himself, watching over a dim lamp, staring blankly into space.

The night watchman's drum marked the third watch.

It was already the dead of night.

Feeling a bit cold, Li Zhiming wrapped himself in his robe. His feet were nearly numb, so he had to quietly stand up and pace back and forth to stretch his limbs.

I hope tonight stays safe.

If nothing goes down tonight, we've got all day tomorrow to sort this out. We'll figure something out.

Still no word from Feng Yin, so maybe we're in the clear.

Sleep's hitting hard, and I can't hold out much longer.

Li Zhiming keeps yawning, and finally dozes off slumped over the desk. Half-asleep, a gust of wind hits him, making him shiver.

With stuff on his mind, he can't sleep soundly.

He doesn't know how long it's been. The lamp oil's all burned out, and the room's dark, doors and windows sealed tight, so dark you can't see your hand in front of your face.

But the doors and windows here are paper-paned, and the moonlight outside is gorgeous, still seeping in a faint, hazy glow.

Li Zhiming spots a silhouette standing in the room, seems to be creeping around carefully. Something shiny catches the moonlight and flashes.

It's a sword.

The figure makes a beeline for the bed.

Li Zhiming holds his breath. He has no idea when this person entered, not a single sound was made.

But he also doesn't notice that there's someone else slumped over the table nearby.

So he heads straight for the bed.

Li Zhiming naturally knows this must be Li Zhixing. He wants to yell out a warning to Sang Yu, but before the words even leave his mouth, the guy's way too fast, beating him to it.

"Sang Yu, watch out!"

Sang Yu on the bed grunts, snatches the sword, and bolts upright in one move.

Li Zhixing didn't expect company, so he's caught off guard for a second, but his moves stay sharp, forcing Sang Yu into a corner with killing blows.

The last strike is about to skewer his throat.

Sang Yu grabs the blade with both hands, not caring that his hands are getting sliced to ribbons. He's locked in a standoff, fighting back from the brink.

Clang. The sword goes flying.

The two stand face to face, both radiating murderous intent.

Li Zhiming, who's got zero martial arts skills, barely gets near before he's sent flying, chest aching, and he's stuck on the ground for ages.

Damn it.

Who did I provoke? I shouldn't have gotten involved in this. Regret.

While he's rubbing his chest, Li Zhixing seems to be saying something, so he strains to listen.

"Wretch, how could someone like you ever be born? You deserve to die, to be toyed with to death."

"You're asking for it!"

Sang Yu lets out a low roar, bends down for a sweeping leg kick. Li Zhixing immediately goes for the sword, but Sang Yu gets there first.